


who we were when: an interlude

by toxica939



Series: who we were when [6]
Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teenagers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-15 01:31:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17519642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toxica939/pseuds/toxica939
Summary: Aaron's first concrete memory is Robert; hanging upside down from a tree, face red from the blood-rush, and smiling with all of his teeth.





	who we were when: an interlude

Aaron's first concrete memory is Robert; hanging upside down from a tree, face red from the blood-rush, and smiling with all of his teeth.

They'd been six, maybe, chasing each other through one of the Sugden's fallow fields. Aaron can still remember exactly how the long grass felt, tickling at his legs, and exactly how bright the sun had been, right in his eyes, and exactly how loudly Robert had laughed.

It's a memory he's held on tight to, for a long time - when Robert had been nothing but thunder and clouds and the empty space where his mum used to be, when Aaron had been shuffled from place to place and dad to dad, through the push-pull of growing up, drifting apart and coming back together, when having Robert close had hurt as much as keeping him away. Through a lot of things, even stupid things, like the first exam he'd properly failed, and his first beer, and the first flutterings of interest in someone, someone else, someone easier. Through all of it, there's always been Robert, in his head, fighting with gravity, pink under his freckles, and larger than life.

The one constant in Aaron's life: there's always Robert.

And then Aaron has to go and fuck it all up by falling in love with him.

:::

He thought it'd go away.

It doesn't.

It doesn't go away when Robert starts shagging any girl that moves, it doesn't go away when Aaron finally comes out and there's actually a chance someone might want to start shagging him, it doesn't even go away when someone _does_ start shagging Aaron.

He lets Jackson Walsh have him, under the covers, while Mrs Walsh hoovers the lounge downstairs. They're supposed to be revising, Jackson's supposed to be tutoring him, but somehow he ends up on his back, shimmying out of his jogging bottoms while his palms sweat, clammy over Jackson's shoulders, and then his back.

They do it six more times after that, premeditated, and Aaron kisses him under the stairs in the science block where no one can see.

Jackson finishes with him in the end, after the third time Aaron sacks off seeing him to hang out with Robert instead. Makes out like he's doing Aaron a favour, like they were in a relationship or something.

He doesn't tell Robert about any of it, tries not to examine too closely why that is.

:::

Robert had sex with Katie again last night. Aaron can tell because the pair of them keep exchanging these smug little glances when they think no one's looking. Andy's totally oblivious in the corner, which surprises Aaron a bit, if he's honest. If the point of Robert's latest little game isn't to piss off Andy, then he's not sure what they're playing at.

“You actually like her or something then?” Aaron asks, because he's a glutton for punishment.

Robert rolls his eyes, makes Aaron wait while he finishes chewing his sandwich, brushes crumbs off his chest. “Course not.”

“So why all the secrecy?”

“She's got a boyfriend, hasn't she,” Robert says, like he's being kind, keeping it quiet.

“Isn't that the point?”

Robert looks away, shuffles about a bit until his knee's pressed tight to Aaron's thigh. Aaron wishes he'd stop noticing things like that. “It's just a bit of fun,” Robert says, but it's hollow, Aaron can tell he doesn't even believe that himself.

“She's never going to dump Andy,” Aaron tells him, in case that's what this is about.

Robert's eyes cut to him. “Careful, you're starting to sound a bit jealous there, mate.”

Aaron stomach rolls and it takes every ounce of self control he's got to stay where he is. He can feel his face turning red, hates himself for it.

He spits, “Fuck off,” at Robert, instead of laughing it off, and hates himself even more when Robert goes still.

The silence between them in tense for a minute, like it often is these days, Aaron's fists balling where he's got them shoved in his armpits, arms folded tight.

Robert's shoulder pushes against his. “I didn't mean it like that,” Robert says, and fuck him for using that voice – the soft one, the one that's just for Aaron.

Aaron shrugs at him, tucks his chin down into his chest. “Forget about it.”

Robert looks at him for a while, while Aaron fights to keep still.

They don't talk much for the rest of lunch, until Robert's hand slaps down on Aaron's thigh, eyes on Katie as she slips out the room. “Duty calls, mate. I'll see you later yeah?”

Aaron watches him go. He gives himself a moment to revel in the sick, jealous, feeling clawing at his throat. It's thick enough to choke on.

So when Finn Barton shuffles over, fingers twisted together, stutters something at him about going to see a film, Aaron says yes, just to prove he can, just in case this is how he gets his breath back.

:::

Aaron hates parties. Or rather, he doesn't hate parties, parties are fine if there's enough free beer and somewhere quiet he can have a fag, what he means is: this party is shite.

Some girl from his bottom set maths class has volunteered to get her parents posh barn conversion absolutely trashed, the music's too loud and too shit, and Robert's barely said three words to him all night, too busy letting some little blonde thing who probably isn't even old enough to be here rub herself all over him in the kitchen.

Finn brings him another beer, puts his hand on Aaron back while they stand there even though he knows Aaron's not that keen on being touched.

And it's not that Aaron doesn't like Finn, alright? He's a nice lad. He's a half decent kisser, goes all breathy and red in the face whenever Aaron takes his top off – it's cute. It's just...he's not what Aaron thinks about at night when he can't sleep. He's not cold hands and hair in Aaron's face while he's trying to watch the telly, he doesn't make Aaron laugh until he’s sick. He's not under Aaron's skin.

Aaron shrugs Finn off in the end, manages to worm his way through the throng of people, find himself a bit of peace outside, round the side of the house, to spark up.

He gets half way through his fag before the peace is shattered.

“Where's the boyfriend?” Robert calls, and he's stumbling about, hand on the wall to steady himself.

A couple of the girls standing around smoking look over, one of them takes a second look, because they always do.

“Inside,” he says, taking a drag. “Where's your...whatever she is.”

Robert frowns. “Who?”

“That girl in there.”

Robert pulls a face, comes to stand in front of Aaron, close enough for their trainers to bump. Aaron holds his breath.

“Give us a bit,” Robert says, plucking the cigarette from Aaron's fingers before he can stop him. He doesn't smoke it though, he never does, just nicks it and chucks it away. Aaron's given up complaining about it.

Robert puts his hands on Aaron's shoulders, holds himself at arms length while Aaron leans against the wall. “Are you having fun?”

Aaron rolls his eyes. “Time of my life.”

It makes Robert smile, and he wavers closer until he's leaning on Aaron, chests pushed together. Aaron wonders what the girl who was eyeing up Robert must be thinking now, watching him press Aaron up against the wall, face in Aaron's neck. Aaron steadies him with a hand on Robert's hip, he can feel the sharp cut of bone, even through his jumper, wonders what it would feel like under his mouth, if the skin would be thin, if Robert would shiver.

Robert sighs deeply, hands cupping Aaron's face. He's holding on too tight but Aaron hasn't got it in him to shake him off.

“You can do better than him, you know,” Robert says, and his mouth is suddenly very, very close and very, very red.

Aaron presses his head back into the brick to try and get some air. “Yeah, you reckon?”

Robert nods, eyes on Aaron's face. His hands let up, thumbs meeting gently in the dip of Aaron's chin. “I reckon.”

There isn't a bit of Aaron that isn't aching for him, time gone still and syrupy, the bass of the party white noise in the distance. There's a split second where he thinks, _he's going to kiss me_ , and then Robert bursts into a laugh, slaps at Aaron's face all matey again.

Aaron plays along, because he always does, pushes and shoves with Robert until he's laughing for real, because Robert's like a dog on lino when he's drunk, all legs.

“You're a dickhead,” Aaron tells him, when he comes up on top, Robert caught in a headlock.

Robert pushes free, shakes his hair out. “Yeah, but I'm your dickhead.”

And that's the thing, isn't it? He isn't Aaron's, not really, not to keep.

It's over an hour later that he finds him wrapped around Finn in the upstairs bathroom, the sight baffling enough to make Aaron pause, really take it in. Robert's right hand down the front of his jeans, Finn's mouth dropped open around Aaron's name, face frozen.

Only one of them has the decency to look ashamed of himself.

He runs all the way home, stops to vomit into the Thomas' rose bushes until there's nothing left in him. When he gets inside he rinses his mouth out with a beer he finds in the fridge and then lays on top of his duvet with all of his clothes on. He can't seem to stop shaking.

Finn sucked him off this afternoon. He wonders, idly, if Robert could taste it.

:::

He forgives him, of course he does.

Which is lucky for Robert, because there's no one else about to take him to A&E when Ross Barton thumps him. Lucky for Aaron, too, because he's the one big brother Barton was swinging for.

Afterwards, they sit in the hospital bus shelter while it pisses it down, rain spraying in on the wind. Robert's huddled in his coat, nose taped up. Aaron wants to put an arm around him, in spite of everything.

“You're going to have a couple of shiners,” he says instead.

Robert snorts, groans when it hurts. “Yeah. You're welcome, by the way.”

“Don't pretend you didn't start all this.”

“Don't pretend you wouldn't have dumped him anyway, in the end.”

Aaron shrugs, tucks his cold hands up inside his coat sleeves, doesn't say anything.

“He wasn't right for you,” Robert says, a mumble because most of his face must be numb by now.

“What would you know about it?”

“I know you.”

No you don't, Aaron thinks. You don't know anything.

He could tell him, confess all. The thought makes his pulse quicken, bottom dropping out of his stomach, and he dismisses it as quickly as he always does.

He reaches over instead, puts his hand over Robert's. “You can stay at mine, if you want.”

If Robert's dad sees him like this he'll never hear the end of it.

Robert looks at him, eyes swollen half shut, nose an absolute mess. And Aaron still wants him, enough that it feels like he's the one who got punched, face throbbing with it. He keeps his gaze fixed on the ground when Robert links their fingers together, watches the puddles bubble, but he lets his heart race, where it's hidden in his chest.

:::

Aaron doesn't think he's heard him right at first.

_I love you._

Aaron's mouth drops open. “You what?”

And then he says it again, keeps saying it, doesn't stop saying it even when Aaron won't say it back.

And then they're kissing, finally. _Finally_.

Once his brain catches up, Aaron gets his hands fisted up in the back of his own hoody, the one Robert always steals, and goes for it. Maybe this is his only chance. Maybe after this, Robert will realise he made a mistake, maybe he's just messing about, maybe, maybe, maybe. Maybe it doesn't matter. Maybe he can live off this.

Robert kisses him back, better than all of the Roberts he's imagined doing this with. He twists their tongues together, breathes right into Aaron's mouth with no fucking finesse at all. Aaron feels himself get hard, feels a sharp spike of _oh, that's what this is supposed to feel like_ , feels Robert gather him even closer, like he likes it, like he wants Aaron's hard on pressed against his thigh and he wants Aaron to know it.

When Aaron finally has to tear his mouth away to breathe, Robert's hands are rubbing up and down his back, sliding round to push his overalls off his shoulders. His mouth fastens, wet and scalding, to Aaron's neck.

“Are you sure about this?” Aaron asks, can't help but ask, even while he's stripping out of his clothes, breathlessly watching Robert do the same.

Robert's smile, when he steps in again, is small and private, one Aaron has never seen before. “I'm sure,” Robert says, and he tongues at Aaron's mouth, presses their bare chests together. “I'm sure.”

Aaron kisses him, digs his fingers in to the skin of Robert's back, hard enough to bruise.

:::

Robert's waiting in Aaron's room when Aaron gets in from work, he knows because his mum tells him, that embarrassing smirk on her face, rolling her eyes when she says _again_ , like Robert didn't spend most of his time in Aaron's bedroom anyway, before they were...whatever they are now.

Robert's sprawled across Aaron's bed, controller in hand, eyes on Aaron's tiny TV. He barely spares Aaron a glance when he comes in.

He does pause it completely while Aaron changes clothes though, which is sort of nice, even if it does make Aaron's skin feel too tight.

Aaron pulls a sweatshirt on, feeling breathless when his head pops through. “Give us a go then” he says, making room for himself beside Robert and Robert rummages around down the side of the bed for the other controller.

Aaron watches his face while he exits to the options menu. It's been a week now and it still doesn't feel real, still feels exactly the same, like he's holding his breath and praying Robert doesn't know how fast his heart is beating.

It's overwhelming, suddenly, that all the things that used to play out only in Aaron's head are now possibilities. He doesn't have to sit here and play computer games with Robert until it's time tea. He doesn't have to settle for the aching thrill of Robert's thigh pressed against his own. If Aaron wants him, he can have him.

Robert's eyebrows shoot up when Aaron takes the controller out of his hands, chucks them both down the bed but Aaron swings a leg over him before he can say anything, gets his hands on Robert's face to tip it up, kisses down into him like he means it, while Robert's still flailing his arms.

Robert's hands settle on his thighs, holding on, and then rubbing up to Aaron's arse to hold on there instead.

Robert's noisy in bed, he’s learning, talks a lot of shit, moans too loudly, like he can't hold it in. Aaron gives him another kiss to keep him quiet, then leans back on his knees to pull Robert's jeans open. “Shut up,” Aaron tells him, “My mum's downstairs.”

Robert groans anyway, when his dick is out and Aaron's hand is closing around it. “Stop talking about your mum.”

“Shut up then.”

“You shut up.”

The rest gets lost to grumbles in the space where their mouths meet.

He's starting to think maybe it doesn't matter how old they get. That maybe there will always be a Robert in Aaron's head, hanging over him, giggling, showing him how bright the world can be.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> i'm vckaarrob on tumblr


End file.
